Page 200 of Hidden Nature

“Luckily, I happen to have one.”

“I’ll go clean myself up, and swing back to get you in about thirty.”

“Make it about forty.” She smiled. “Little black dress dates take longer.”

“Forty then.” He opened her new mudroom door.

“Nash? It’s nice. Going out. It’s not something I need or want very often, but it’s nice.”

“Next time you want nice and I don’t think of it, you can do the asking.”

“That’s fair. See you in forty.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

For the first time in months, Nash put on a suit. He found he didn’t mind it so much, especially since it reminded him he no longer had to wear one daily.

When he picked her up, looking every bit as good as he’d imagined in the little black dress and heels that must’ve added a solid four inches to her height, she just grinned at him.

“I knew it. I knew you’d have a selection of superior suits to fill that amazing closet you’re building.”

“I ditched half of them. Donated,” he corrected when her mouth dropped open.

“Okay then. Good thing you kept this one.” She took a leather jacket out of the coat closet. “Because you look, as Sari would say, fine in it.”

Since they’d dressed for it, he took the jacket from her, helped her on with it. “You look fine yourself.”

She sent him a look over her shoulder. “Yes, I do. We do. So let’s get this party started.”

The fact she knew just about everyone—bartender, several servers, a good chunk of other diners—didn’t surprise him. She’d grown up in this little spot, after all.

Just as it hadn’t surprised him just how good she looked in that little black dress.

It did surprise him, at least a little, how much they had to talk about beyond her work, his work, house plans, and paint samples.

Maybe it shouldn’t have. They’d had plenty of conversations. But it seemed different sitting in a restaurant over a good bottle of wine.

“I saw your couple dozen medals at your parents’. For track.”

“And cross-country. I could run. Still can. I did indoor track to keep in shape, but outdoors was it and cross-country the biggest it. Did you have a sport?”

“Tennis.”

“I’d have guessed football. Got a quarterback build on you, Littlefield.”

“Not on the approved list. Tennis or golf. Country club sports were acceptable activities. I went for tennis. Wasn’t bad,” he remembered. “Theo was better. We both went for piano—also required. I’m better there.”

“You play the piano?” Those magic eyes widened. “I want to hear you play. Why don’t you have a piano? You have to get a piano.”

“I’ve got one in storage. I was going to sell it when I sold the condo. Theo talked me out of it.”

“Good for Theo.” She reached over to sample some of his salmon. “You’ve got plenty of room for one. Do you like to play?”

“Now and then.” He reevaluated. “Yeah, now and then. I bought one telling myself I could play when I wanted, not when required. It worked. Do you play?”

“I play nothing. I could never sit still long enough to practice. I tried guitar awhile, during my rock-stars-are-dreamy stage.” Head angled, she lifted her wine. “I guess I never moved out of that stage, but even though you can stand up and move around with a guitar, it didn’t stick.

“Try some of this shrimp.”

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